Peering briefly into the crib, John Winchester put himself to bed lying on his less than comfy mattress. The man didn't bother to change out of his rugged jeans or flannel shirt; he didn't really have that luxury anymore. He left his shoes next to his bed, in case he needed to get to them quickly. John was always on alert. The whole hunting business could do that to a man; not only did he have to worry about fighting off spirits, but he had a mischievous eleven year old and a curious seven year old, and now a baby, no more than two years of age.
John let out a big sigh. "What am I doing? I can't take care of Ben." This was partly true. Although, he was more than capable of watching out for a child, since Mary's death he turned his entire life into a mission for revenge. Grumbling to himself some more, John's biggest concern was that the child would slow him down from whatever he needed to do.
"Jamie," the man chuckled. "Always leaving me red handed." Duke James, or Jamie (as John called him), had run into John's path 5 years prior. Duke was a hunter, only a few years older than John. But he had been in the business many years longer than John. At the point when the two met, Mary's death had only been two years before and John was still knew to the hunting supernatural deal. He had started looking into all things weird and evil after his wife was engulfed in flames. It had taken him a year to learn enough about the supernatural existent before he decided to become a hunter of evil.
It was one of his first hunts, and for him it was a difficult challenge. The target: a ware wolf. The destination: Richwood, Texas. John had left his children in Okalahoma, with a family friend, who was also knowledgeable of hunting. He drove the way to Richwood, preparing his pistol with pure silver bullets. Make a long story short, Duke James was running with the same lead and just about shot John square in the heart. After it was all said and done, the two hit it off quite well and Duke invited John back to his house in London, Texas. His wife, Louise prepared a late night dinner for them and within a few hours, John had opened up and laughing a bit.
John liked London and the James' so much, that he moved the boys and himself out there. He was able to rent a small house not far from the James', and dropped off Dean and Sam with Louise when he and Duke went on a hunt. Dean and Sam adored Louise and enjoyed seeing their father lighten up a bit and laugh. Duke taught John everything he knew about hunting. Being the senior hunter, Duke left John to deal with the police when they were often stopped or when they would be left to clean up some mess. Duke always left John red handed.
By this time, John had fallen asleep, but the memories of his dear friend did not cease. The night's events overwhelmed the man's dreams. It had been a routine mission: find the bones of three buried people and burn them. Hunting was never that easy, though.
"Ben's a smart one, John," Duke said from the drivers' seat.
"Well, he is your son, James," replied John. They were nearing Richwood to complete their next job.
"Read me back this case, again, would ya?" Duke asked, speeding up a little.
"Alright, we've got three spirits; the children of Bernard and Bertha Hunningberg. Legend has it ol' Bernie and Bertha went off the deep end in 1918. The couple was scared shitless of their kids becoming radical thinkers; going off and doing anything other than work and go to church. One night, Bertha begs her husband to make sure their children never stray into the wrong ways and that night the parents each take one of the twelve-year twins and suffocates them with a pillow. Than the father takes his sixteen-year-old son and does the same." John frowns, he wasn't the world's greatest dad, but he could never understand how anyone could be so cruel to his or her own child.
"Harsh… woah. Even with The Great Depression, the only thing Ben brings me is joy," Duke said.
"Yeah, same with my boys," John softly spoke.
"You said they were buried where?"
"Old Cavern's Cemetery." The children usually beckoned abusive parents, squeezing their lungs until they ruptured. The victims suffocated almost instantly.
John stirred upon the memory. The tragic event had only occurred the day before. Duke and John successfully found and burned the remains of three skeletons. They thought their job was done. The job was as smooth as you could ask for. Louise had a welcome back dinner ready and waiting when they returned. Duke and Louise's son, Ben, only a year old had long been sleeping when the men arrived. Half past ten, Dean and Sam should have been sleeping too, but with their Winchester charm begged Louise to let them stay up to see their father and "uncle".
Soon after Dean and Sam had devoured a set of chocolate chip cookies, they also fell asleep. John grabbed Dean and Duke picked up the mangled Sam, wiping his mouth clean of chocolate. The boys frequently stayed with the James, and they were carried about to Ben's room and laid to rest in a single twin bed.
Louise drank hot tea, and listened to her husband and friend talk about their latest adventure. Out of nowhere, the lights dimmed out and Louise yelped once before falling silent. John grabbed his flashlight, connected to his belt, and flashed it towards Louise's chair. She was dead. A small spirit hovered over her head, dripping blood from its ghostly hands.
Duke and John immediately knew the spirit was a Hunningberg, they spirit looked identical to the children in the picture they found. This spirit worked fast and before quickly and before either John or Duke could grab their pistols, the spirit attacked Duke. Pinned against the couch, Duke struggled for air, as the spirit ripped through his internal organs. John couldn't afford to fire his gun right there, he instead grabbed an iron rod positioned against the wall and swung it at the spirit. The spirit of the girl vanished into the air.
"John-" Duke coughed. How he was able to get one word out, John didn't know. "Ben… take care. I love…" and with that Duke's eyes shut. John didn't need to hear his best friend finished. They discussed the issues on numerous occasions: what would happen if either of them died? The other would take care of both families. John understood that with his last dying breath, Duke asked him to take Ben in as his own and to remind his son that he loved him.
Shooting up from his position on the bed, John shook his head and his eyes landed on the crib next to him. Ben was screaming. John stood and walked the few steps to the crib.
"Shoo, Ben. Everything's going to be all right." John could barely get out the words. He was left red handed. In his heart, John knew he had a duty to this child now, but he didn't understand why his plate was being filled with this huge commitment. Duke had been a great hunter, and yet he was so easily tricked and taken.
"Come on, Ben, calm down for me, kiddo." To no avail, the baby cried even louder, Sighing, John carefully lifted up the child to his chest, just as he had done with his own children. Laying the child's head next to his heart, Ben instantly became silent, matching his tiny breaths with the up rise of John's chest. Not thinking anything of it, he cooed the baby back to sleep.
"We'll be safe together, Ben. I promise." He didn't know that for sure, but John was a strong willed man, with a hard head. When he put his mind into something, it stuck to it, no matter the circumstances. After the freak occurrence the night before, John transferred his children and Ben back to his place through the back door of the James' resident. Having Pastor Jim, who had his own way of dealing with the supernatural, come and stay with the boys. He returned to Richwood to find the fourth Hunningberg child buried a few feet from the others. The legend only called for three children, John's research at stop there and it cost him his best friend and his wife. John vowed another thing this night, that he would always check and double check findings, that research would be a top priority before executing a hunt.
"You dad loves you Ben," John whispered. He felt awkward saying that; Duke had only just died and John Winchester was the biggest man's man. He wasn't sentimental at all, but something about the sleeping baby brought out the feelings in John.
Placing Ben back in his crib, John traveled down the hallway to his boys' room, smiling when he saw Sam pushed up against Dean's side. Dean's right hand was still perched under his pillow, which he now shared with Sam's head, and his body was near falling off the edge of the bed. Sam slept contently on his back, leaning his tiny head on his older brother's shoulder. For a small child, he took up most of the bed sprawling his legs around.
"There's my boys," John grinned. He made as much of an attempt to be a normal father as he could leisure. And he regularly crept into his sons' room at night to check on the sleeping duo. The father took pride in the fact that his boys were so close, knowing one day he might not be there for them. Laughing to himself, he saw Sam's right hand laying up top Dean's left hand, which propped across Sam's chest. Sammy did that every night, creeping into Dean's bed, pushing him to the edge, and placing his older brother's protection arm across his chest for security.
As John made his way back to his room, he knocked some books on his dresser. Looking guilty, he peeked over to Ben's crib. The baby had not even stirred at the sound. It would be a while before John would come to know that the new addition to the family wasn't just a sound sleeper, but rather hard of hearing you could say.
So, I really don't like this chapter because I didn't have many ideas for it, but I think it's best to explain what happened to Ben's parents, instead of just mentioning back to it. Next chapter: John takes Ben to the doctor.